


carte blanche.

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Easter, Liverpool, M/M, Short One Shot, pre-fame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23618458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: after a hard night of drinking, a moment of pause is had in front of the church of st luke.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Kudos: 16





	carte blanche.

**Author's Note:**

> summary, schummary

1959,

The open streets of Bold Street were deserted early Easter Sunday. The tower of St Luke stood imposing and proud, a reminder of the past, as it watched over the shaking forms of two young men, huddled over a trash can as one vomited as he laughed down into the echoing metal. 

“Yer such a fucking lightweight, Paul,” laughed the one left standing as the wind shifted through his pompadour hair that had given up staying intact hours ago. His voice travelled down the empty streets, past the closed shops and yellow and white Easter decor. Paul groaned and waved his hand around, attempting to hit his friend, not daring to remove himself from the can as he felt his body heave and sweat. John’s laughter only grew louder as he playfully slapped the aimless hand. 

When Paul finally emerged, red-faced, letting the cool April air sweep over his face as he breathed in the smell of dew and vomit. John rested on the grass, a stone throw away from Paul- easily proving as Paul _did_ throw a stone at his friend, laughing breathlessly at his little (petty with a pebble) act of revenge. 

He carefully moved himself to the ground next to John, careful not to upset his stomach further. They sat in silence, watching pigeons and seagulls taking over the empty streets, scouring for any food left behind, with the clear blue sky as a calming background. Sound of church bells chimed in the distance and John cursed under his breath, “Mimi’s gonna have my skin.”

Paul’s father, too. They were both going to be horribly late for each of their own family Easter traditions, yet neither moved a muscle as they sat on the cool grass, taking in the morning as they shared each other’s presence, knuckles touching as they listened to each other’s soft breathing. Neither wanting to part.

**Author's Note:**

> i've never been to liverpuddle. take me there, dear papa


End file.
